


Prompt #34: "That's okay. I brought two."

by Xylianna



Series: Xy's 100 Ways Challenge [40]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Is that a thing, It is now, Multi, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spite Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 03:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19759855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xylianna/pseuds/Xylianna
Summary: Morgan finds more than she dared hope for at the festival fire.





	Prompt #34: "That's okay. I brought two."

My feet ached from dancing and I felt lightheaded as Sam twirled me again. Our shared laughter set the pace of our motions, and as it quieted we stilled, staring into one another’s eyes intently.

As he lifted one calloused hand to cup my cheek, it occurred to me how strange it was that I felt so deeply for someone I barely knew. But then his lips were on mine again, softly and sweetly, and I decided this wasn’t the time to think about it.

I clasped my hands at the base of Sam’s neck to keep him near, angling my head to deepen the kiss. My passion surged like the sea that pounded along the nearby shore. I had watched the couples steal away from the fires and find shadowed glades as the night waxed darker, but never had I been so tempted to do the same.

Yet there was no rush, no sense of urgency. We could stand here and kiss forever and a day, the sea to one side, the fire’s light at the other; the air buffeting our hair and the earth strong and stable beneath our feet.

When Sam drew back from me, I whimpered longingly. The sound made him smile, dimples flashing in those golden cheeks. “Don’t fret,” he said. "Darling Morgan, why don’t you lay down in the sweetgrass here?” He shrugged out of his cloak and spread it out in the lee of the fire. 

I glanced around, worried someone would see. Surely we should go farther away, find a secret glade all our own. But no one was about. Had it grown so late, then, that everyone else had gone home? That didn’t make sense either — at festival time, folks were up all the night through — but like before, I decided not to think on it much.

Instead I lowered myself to lay on the softness of Sam’s thick woolen cloak, hearing the grass crunch underneath, providing me a cushion. He lay beside me and curled himself near on his side, reaching out to stroke a fingertip across my cheek ever so faintly. I couldn’t decide if it tickled or not, but my giggle was wrought from nerves as much as his touch.

“Why don’t we,” Sam kissed one corner of my mouth, “just lay here,” he kissed the other, “for a while?”

“Yes...” My word was caught on a luxurious sigh as I leaned back, pillowing my head on one folded arm. I rest my other hand on my stomach, as if I could somehow quell the butterflies beating gossamer wings within. We kissed and kissed until I forgot where I ended and he began, and all the while he gently stroked my cheek, my hair, the slope of my neck. Molten heat slowly built between my thighs, making me squirm. Each time I did, Sam would smile at me, and plant a kiss on my forehead or the tip of my nose and murmur reassurances that we had all the time in the world, there was no hurry, no destination to sprint headlong towards down this path of discovery.

There was just him, and me, and the sound of the surf, and the sparkle of the stars.

And someone else, it seemed. I squeaked in surprise when I felt another body press against mine, and whipped my head around to see who it was with wide eyes.

Why, it was Nick. Nothing to worry about. I smiled and gave him a kiss, too, my nascent thought that he didn’t belong here flitting out of my mind before it had a chance to take root.

“Evening, gorgeous,” he murmured against my lips as we parted. “Started without me, I see.”

I felt Sam shake with barely restrained laughter behind me even as he combed his fingers through my windswept hair. “Terribly sorry. She’s hard to resist.”

“You’re not wrong.” Nick bowed his head to lavish attention along my collarbone, licking and kissing his way from one side to the other. He nuzzled his cheek to my breast just where my heart beat and I keened in want.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll take care of you.”

And so I lay back and let them run their strong hands over my hair and my limbs, their clever fingers sliding my skirts up to bunch around my knees so they could trace patterns on my calves. The slight chill of the night air was a stark contrast to the warmth of their touch. When lips replaced hands I mewled. The hand curled under my head I fisted in my own hair, needing to hold on to something, anything, to anchor me in this tender tide of feelings.

I felt a hand cup my breast and opened my eyes to see that it was Sam, his face a breath away from mine, his eyes on mine as he smiled and traced the hardening bud of my nipple through the fabric of my dress.

“More,” I beseeched on another shuddering sigh and he listened, tugging the bodice of my dress down just far enough to reveal one of my small breasts. Sam lowered his head to kiss it all over, gentle featherlight touches of lips and tongue, even as Nick continued to kiss his way with excruciating slowness up my calf and towards my thigh.

I reached out and pressed a hand to Sam’s side, wanting to touch him, make him feel half as good as he was making me feel. Uncurling the other from beneath my head, I stretched down until I could wind my fingers in Nick’s dark hair, which he seemed to take encouragement from, his kisses inching higher up the delicate skin of my inner thigh until I could feel the heat radiating from him, even hotter, somehow, than my core.

It must be his magic, was my idle thought before Sam brought his lips back to mine, fingers teasing so wonderfully at my nipple, drawing it to aching hardness. Nick’s lips were searing against my skin, and when he bypassed that most intimate part of me to instead kiss his way to my hip and back down my outer thigh, I moaned in want.

My plea was answered when Nick brought one hand between my legs to softly stroke a finger along me from navel to bottom and back again. He repeated the motion again and again until my hips were quivering from the effort to not buck up against his touch wantonly, desperately seeking something I wasn’t even certain how to put into words.

“Sssshhh,” Sam crooned into my ear before kissing it too, his lips caressing the shell and lobe the same sensuous way they had toyed with my nipple. His fingers pinched it lightly before he palmed my breast again with a tender squeeze. He leaned over my body to close his mouth over the as yet neglected breast, suckling at it through the thin cloth of my summer dress. This brought his body tempting closer to mine, and I reached out, stroking the muscled planes of his chest with a purr of satisfaction at finally getting my hand on him. 

I slid my hand downward over the tautness of his firm belly, but just as my fingers grazed the bulge in his trousers he leaned back.

“No need for that,” he grinned, a bit of the sweetness eclipsed by carnal hunger flashing in his eyes. “Let us take care of you this time.”

“Agreed,” Nick lifted his lips from the home they’d found at my knee and wore a similar lascivious grin. “Just lay back, beautiful, and let us make you feel good.”

I certainly wasn’t foolish enough to argue with that suggestion, so I crossed both my arms beneath my head to support it, and gave myself over to the delicacy of their touches. I almost suspected some yet unknown to me arcane arts were utilized — even with four hands and two mouths between them, how could they make me feel such incredible things? I knew my body was capable of great pleasure, but Goddess grant that I could feel these amazing highs again and again and again. And all this without either of them laying with me as a man does with a woman, all this just from soft grazes of fingers and clever curling of tongues. From kisses, and smiles, and poetry made up of laugher and heartbeats.

The contrast between one strong hand massaging my bicep while another teased fingertips in filigree patterns over my inner thigh was literally breathtaking. I found myself gasping for air in intervals after seemingly forgetting how to breathe, or perhaps it just didn’t seem as important to do so as it was to drink in every moment of Sam’s hand sliding over my arm, of Nick’s lips pressing to my ankle.

When they both brought their mouths to my breasts I nearly wept from the overwhelming pleasure of it. Nick was more straightforward, kissing my nipple while mounding my breast with one hand. Sam seemed to take sly delight in keeping me just a little off balance, fingers reaching in to pinch at the rosy peak while he lathed his tongue along the underside of my breast. He kissed me, and I tasted the salt of my own skin.

They took leisurely turns worshipping my mouth with theirs, until my lips felt swollen from their kisses, and my heart pounded in my chest from the breathless wonder of it all. I started to grow a bit impatient with the gentle touches that seemed to never quite linger where I so ardently desired, and though my cheeks flushed from the brazenness of it, I parted my thighs in what I hoped was invitation.

It must have been enough, because, _Goddess_. Those glancing touches had been but a sampling, the kisses on my thigh a pale echo of the pleasure wrought by their lips against my core. Even in this they were tender and slow, Sam holding me and softly cupping one breast as he kissed me, Nick wrapping an arm around my waist as he licked my center until, like the nearby waves, my pleasure crested and broke against the shore of their creation.

Reaching my peak did not bring an end to their attentions. Both men resumed caressing me with only one brief pause in which Sam offered me a clay cup full of water. Nick playfully tried to swipe it out of my hand, and Sam grinned at him, handing him his own. “That’s okay, I brought two.” 

After we’d all refreshed ourselves, our loveplay resumed in earnest. I tried again to give back, to touch them as they had been touching me, and this time Nick went so far as to take my wrists gently in his large hands and tuck them back under my head.

“Another time,” he promised, kissing between my eyebrows before peppering a line of delicate little kisses from my forehead down to my shoulder. At the same time, Sam started at my foot and kissed his way upwards; the two of them met at my waist, and I realized that at some point my dress had been stripped away. Rather than feeling some sense of concerned modesty, I felt a lazy smile wind over my face. What did it matter if they looked upon me? They had done so very much more than _look_.

But I felt so respected, reverenced. It almost felt wrong to reap such adoration when I was but a mortal and such heartfelt love reserved for our Goddess. But I knew deep within me that this was right, this was good. Lovemaking didn’t have to be a tawdry thing done in the shadows of a fire, drunk on strawberry wine. It could be soft and sweet and achingly kind, and I only wished that this night could last an eternity.

At long last I drew them both to me, feeling thoroughly sated and more pampered than I had ever dreamed to be. I pressed my lips first to Sam’s and then to Nick’s before wrapping one arm around each man to draw them near. I felt a bit strange to be the one holding them, when I had always been taught it was the woman who sought refuge in her man’s arms, but at the same time it felt so ineffably _right_ that I pulled them even closer.

Both seemed just as pleased with the arrangement as I was, Sam burying his face in my tangled hair and Nick resting his cheek against my heart. Like this, we watched the sun’s first light brighten the horizon. Like this, we listened to the inexorable susurrations of the waves against the shore. Like this, we took in the wondrous dawn, until sleep overtook our best efforts at wakefulness, drawing us down into its necessary respite.

* * *

When I woke, I was momentarily confused as I sat up in my bed. I could hear Maria rattling around the kitchen, making coffee. Nick’s snores were just audible through the shared wall of our rooms.

Hadn’t I been on the beach? It was the festival, and I… and they… and…

I flushed crimson from forehead to belly, and I hid beneath my blankets as if my friends had x-ray vision and could perceive my plight. How would I be able to look Nick in the eye at lunch today? How would I look at Maria without her somehow just knowing every single detail of my very delicious, very unexpected, dream?

Perhaps I should just sleep in today. It wasn’t that I hoped by falling back asleep I’d go back into the dreamscape my unconscious mind had woven, no, not at all. I just… needed my rest. 

I smiled as I dozed off, wondering what dreams might come…

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, prompted by something I viewed on the internet that needed to end an entirely different way. I used this as an exercise to get to know my character Morgan better (Nick and Sam are a bit OOC here, but, it's her dream so why not haha)
> 
> If you actually read this despite it being not fanfiction, thank you! I'd love a comment with your thoughts and/or a kudos if you enjoyed! <3


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